


Crossed Wires

by Lauriana25



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Anxious Katsuki Yuuri, Canon Compliant, Comedy, Fluff, Happy Ending, Kissing, Love Confessions, M/M, Misunderstandings, Mixed Signals, Mutual Masturbation, Mutual Pining, Phichit is a little shit hahahaha, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Smut, Swearing, Tiny bit of Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-17
Updated: 2019-01-17
Packaged: 2019-10-11 20:31:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17453795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lauriana25/pseuds/Lauriana25
Summary: Mari is getting married. Victor asks if it's okay to bring a date to the ceremony, which crushes Yuuri, whose just plucked up the courage to ask him to be his date!Victor can't understand why Yuuri's so upset. Surely he knows that he meant he wants to go to the wedding withhim. Right?Confusion ensues.





	Crossed Wires

**Author's Note:**

> **#TeamMutualDistraction is baaaaaack!!!!!!**
> 
> And this time we're trying our hand on some light-hearted comedy :D  
> With our usual helping of smut, of course!
> 
> We hope you enjoy this story. We loved including more characters this time. As you'll see, we love everyone's favourite Hamster Boy lol.

“Yuuri! Did you call the caterer?” Mari’s voice echoes through the main hall, surrounded by piles of unopened gifts sent early, Kakashi half-asleep on the couch beside her as they run through a few final checks before the big day, now three days away.

“Yes, _nee-san_ , I called the caterer. Everything is in order.” Yuuri groans as Mari asks him the same question for the third time that day. They had been planning the day for so long that he’s sure his older sister’s brain has fried by now. A quick glance at his phone on the table in front of him proves just how late it’s getting, the group of them having sat down after dinner to help and evidently lost track of time. 

“Otsuka-san, are you sure you want to marry her? She hasn’t scared you away yet?” Phichit chirps before reflexively covering his face to protect against Mari’s retaliation. 

“Mmm, I think so. I kinda like her, after all.” Kakashi replies with a soft smile, rubbing his thumb over Mari’s clenched fist.

“Your days are numbered, Chulanont. Don’t make me regret inviting you.” Mari snaps, settling back onto the couch with a bit of coaxing from her fiance. Yuuri stifles a laugh behind his hand.

“So, Vicchan, are you enjoying your stay so far?” Yuuri hears his mother’s kind voice floating through the room, using the little bit of conversational English she had learned for speaking with foreign patrons. Victor laughs that bright, happy laugh and Yuuri feels his lips turning up, absently petting the man’s poodle laid down by his side.

“Yes! Japan is lovely this time of year. A bit warm though.” Victor says slowly as Mama nods along and laughs.

“Summer here is a bit warm!” she replies enthusiastically, a massive smile splitting her soft cheeks. Yuuri knows he’s staring, but the way Victor’s eyes sparkle in the warm light completely captivates him. He’s pulled back to the moment by Phichit’s snickering across the table, his best friend having noticed his not-so-subtle mooning.

“What?” he huffs at Phichit, re-focusing on the checklist Mari gave him a week ago. Caterer, check. Flowers, check. Guest list, check.

Oh. Wait. There’s two unticked boxes on the list, next to his name. And Victor’s. _Plus One._ He swallows thickly and shuffles the piece of paper to the bottom of the pile.

Phichit leans over the table and grabs the paper, despite Yuuri trying to snatch it back. He rolls his eyes and smacks the page with the back of his hand.

“This is what! You and I both know I didn’t come here to be your plus one - I got my own invitation, remember?”

“Though why I decided to do that is still a mystery to me.” Mari chimes in, briefly glancing up from her wedding folder to shoot a raised eyebrow at the young Thai man.

“Because you’re secretly in love me and are hoping I’ll stand up and shout ‘I OBJECT!’ at the altar.” Phichit flashes his biggest, toothiest grin at the older Japanese woman, and quickly ducks when she throws a pink cushion at him. It narrowly misses his head, though Yuuri suspects she didn’t really aim for him.

“You even breathe out of place, I’ll make sure you never eat katsudon again!” Mari growls (though Yuuri sees the corners of her mouth twitch).

Phichit salutes her, a hand raised to his temple, before turning his grey eyes back to Yuuri. Yuuri gulps. _Crap._

“As I was saying.” Phichit gives him a knowing wink, lowering his voice so the others in the the room can’t hear him. “Why don’t you ask him?”

“Who?” Yuuri tries his best to act dumb. Judging by the flat glare his best friend gives him, it probably works too well.

“Johnny Weir.” Phichit replies sarcastically. “Who do you think?!” he nudges his head in the direction of the musical laughter that keeps distracting Yuuri. 

“No way in hell!” Yuuri nearly shrieks, just about managing to stop himself in time, all the while glancing over his shoulder to make sure Victor hasn’t heard him.

"Just ask him! If he's says no, I'll hang out with you and we'll both get wasted and steal the wedding cake!" Phichit whispers, just out of range of the rest of the family gathered in the room.

"I-I-I can't just go up to Victor N-Nikiforov and ask him to be my plus one!" Yuuri splutters, his eyes searching for the silver head of hair out of habit, something dropping in his chest when he can’t find him, the seat beside his mother now empty.

"Why not? Look, he's out there coaching you, just tell him you don't want him sitting around the onsen by himself for a day."

"Phichit, stop, _please_ , I can't-" Phichit smirks at something above Yuuri's head as a body takes a seat beside him, a lanky arm wrapping around his shoulders.

"You can't what, Yuuri?" Victor asks, Yuuri slowly turning his head to see the soft smile pulling at the corner of his mouth.

"I... I can't eat any katsudon, hah," Yuuri laughs uncomfortably, shuffling away from the touch and out of Victor's sideways hug, "B-because I haven't won anything yet! Yeah, that's it."

"Well, you are right. I sure hope they aren't serving katsudon at the wedding..." Victor muses, a finger pressed to the center of his lips in thought. Yuuri gulps thickly as Phichit elbows him sharply in the ribs. _'Do it'_ he mouths, nodding his head toward the Adonis in the green jinbei.

Yuuri shakes his head over and over again, so much so he nearly knocks his glasses off his own face. "Phich, I'm begging you!" he whispers harshly between his teeth. "Don't!"

"Don't what, Yuuri?" Victor asks again, leaning his chin on the heel of his palm, smiling crookedly at the blushing Japanese man. "You're not keeping secrets from me again, are you?"

"Nononononono!" Yuuri squeaks, glaring at Phichit as he chuckles behind his hand. "I...umm...we were just-"

"We were just talking about the wedding." Phichit chimes in, flashing Yuuri a devilish grin. "Are you going, Victor?"

The Russian man nods with a bright smile. " _Da_. But..." he lets his sentence trail off with a dramatic sigh.

"But what?" Yuuri asks, genuinely curious about the sudden shift in his coach's mood. Victor fiddles with the sash of his jinbei (something that makes Yuuri's eyes bulge and Phichit snigger) and, for once, looks perplexed.

"...Do you think your sister would mind if I brought a date?"

Yuuri's eyes drop to his lap as the worst answer he could have received falls from Victor's lips. Phichit steps in as he sees Yuuri begin to spiral.

"Oh, um, well… you’re down as having a plus one, but, um, why don’t you ask Mari? Or Mama K? I’m sure they’d love to talk about it. But we've gotta go, right Yuuri?" Phichit blabbers at the speed of light, not stopping long enough for a reply from either Yuuri or his coach. Phichit wraps a hand around Yuuri's wrist and pulls him down the hall and up the stairs into his room, sliding the door shut behind them. 

"Yuuri, I'm so sorry, I didn't think-"

"Why?" Yuuri interrupts, " _Why_ did you think that would be a good idea, Phichit?" His voice beginning to squeak with tears. 

"I- I honestly didn't think he'd say that, I thought I could-"

"You could what? Stick me in another uncomfortable position? When I kept saying no, and you kept pushing, what did you think would happen?!" Yuuri's voice finally cracks, a tear sliding down his cheek. 

"Yuuri, I... I'm sorry." 

"Please, just... go. I'd rather be alone." Yuuri whispers, leaving his words unsaid, hoping Phichit knew what he meant. He'd rather be alone than have been rejected by Victor Nikiforov.

Phichit slopes off outside and slumps down to the ground, pulling his phone out of his pocket as he crosses his legs. If he can't help Yuuri, the least he can do is check out Victor's mystery date. He'll just tell Yuuri that he did it so he could prove that he's ten times better than any skank Victor could find. His phone screen lights up like a beacon in the waning light, the sun just dipping into the sea to the west.

But after scouring Victor's instagram feed for over an hour, he can't find a single trace of a potential date. Hell, Victor doesn't even flirt with anyone! Not even Chris (though it's clearly not from a lack of interest, judging from the numerous sex-laden memes the Swiss skater keeps sharing).

"I'm telling you, he's not interested!"

Phichit's ears prick up at the sound of Victor's voice coming from the open window of his room. Holding his breath, he scoots a little closer to the window, tilting his head to one side.

 _"Are you sure you asked him properly, mon cher?"_ Phichit instantly recognises Chris' drawling accent from what must be a video chat.

"Yes!" Victor says exasperatedly. "I asked if his sister would mind if I came with a date."

 _"But did you make it clear that you want to be HIS date?"_ Phichit clamps his hand over his mouth. He has to, otherwise he's sure he's going to squeal.

"Well...isn't it obvious? I mean, I've come all this way-"

 _"To coach him. Isn't that the official party line?"_ Chris teases, shaking his blonde curls. 

Victor throws himself down on his bed like a teenage girl and hugs a pillow to his chin, pouting at his phone. "You're not making me feel better, you know!"

_"I'm sorry, is that why you phoned me? And here was me thinking I was about to get a date. Aren't I always your backup?"_

"Chriiiiis!"

 _"Alright, alright!"_ Chris chuckles, shaking his head again. _"Look, I think Yuuri is the type who needs things spelling out for him. I mean, didn't you tell me he thinks about food to imagine Eros? So he doesn't seem the type to pick up on your oh-so-not-subtle flirting."_

Phichit bites his tongue to keep in the squealing as everything falls into place in his mind. 'Time to earn my Cupid wings.' he thinks to himself gleefully as he flies up the stairs to Yuuri's room.

***

Yuuri clutches his onigiri cushion to his chest, the tears finally run dry and his throat screaming for water. He slowly sits up, eyeing the faded outlines where his posters had hung before the summer began, before their living breathing counterpart had arrived on a snowy spring day. Another ugly swell of anxiety washes over him as he remembers the words.

_'...if I bring a date?'_

The cogs turn slowly in his mind, considering who he could possibly be considering to invite, given that the ceremony was in less than seventy-two hours and inconveniently being held on the far end of the world for most people Victor might know. 

Chris? Maybe. But Yuuri swears he saw the Swiss skater wrapped up in someone else's arms on social media a few weeks ago.

Mila? From his rink in Russia? Probably not. She was busy training with the rest of them, and Yuuri should know, she's a frequent flyer on Yurio's Instagram. (Yuuri himself doesn't have much of a page to boast for, but he follows his competition closely.)

Maybe... Maybe it was someone Yuuri doesn’t know. A lover that he doesn’t know about maybe. Someone... who definitely isn't him. He buries his face in the cushion and screams, just to relieve the tension in his chest. 

A soft knock echoes in his bedroom, a knuckle against the frame of the traditional paper door. 

"Yuuri? Can I speak with you?"

Quickly rubbing his eyes and checking that his glasses aren't smudged with tears, Yuuri opens his door.

"Oh. It's you, Phichit. I thought..." The Thai skater smiles warmly and walks past Yuuri, not needing to wait to be invited into his room.

"Oh I know full well who you thought it might be. Someone tall, rugged, handsome… Russian?"

Yuuri groans and quickly shuts the door. "Look, if you've come here just to have another go-"

"Nononono!" Phichit plonks himself on Yuuri's bed and holds his hands out in an appeasing gesture. "Look, I really am sorry about before. But you'll never believe what I found out!"

Yuuri rubs his face, suddenly feeling like he hasn't slept in a month. "Not interested, Phich."

"But you will be!" Phichit grins. "It concerns Victor's date."

Yuuri frowns. "Now I really am not interested. I don't want to know who he's bringing. I don't care!"

"But, Yuuri-"

"NO!" Yuuri yells, not really caring if he can be heard through the thin walls. "Phichit, I get that you're trying to help me, but Victor is not interested in me. He's bringing someone else to the wedding. So...maybe I just need to give up."

Phichit tries to put his hand on Yuuri's shoulder, but he shrugs it away. "But-"

"I said no. Okay? Now, if you don't mind, I think I need to get some sleep. I have training in the morning." Yuuri says shortly, glaring at his best friend. It stuns Phichit, who slopes off silently.

***

"Does that work? Just asking outright like that?"

 _"I've never been disappointed with the results."_ Chris teases with a knowing wink. _"If you don't ask, you don't get."_

Victor sighs. "I suppose...but what if he says no? I've said I'll coach him - it'll be so awkward if I ask him out and he turns me down!"

Chris hums with a finger to his lips. _"Then you make up an excuse. Tell him you thought it was some silly Japanese custom to ask the brother of the bride to accompany him."_

"Chris, you can't be serious. He'll see through that in an instant. He's inexperienced but he isn't an idiot." Victor sighs again, a thousand possibilities running through his head. But the way he had just... wilted like that. He shakes his head, rattling the thoughts from his head. 

_"Mon cher, this is the first time I've seen you like this. You're the one who showed up and offered to coach him au natural, for chrisssake! Buck up!"_ Chris's laugh sounds tinny through his phone speaker.

"So I just... ask? You're sure I shouldn't hire the skywriter?" Victor asks with a laugh.

 _"Do you speak Japanese, Victor?"_

"Not fluently yet, but I know a few things... I can order takeout and drinks by myself, but-"

 _"Yeah… hold off on the skywriter. Put a pin in that idea though. Save it for later."_ The Swiss skater winks with a waggle of his meticulously sculpted brows.

"You are incorrigible, Christophe Giacometti." Victor laughs and his friend joins in.

 _"And you are the single luckiest man on Earth to be so close to that delicious booty."_ Victor snorts a laugh as he ends the call, throwing himself out of bed and into the bathroom for a quick check of his hair, re-coiffing the messy, disheveled silver. 

Phichit huffs as he slinks down the stairs to his guest room, nearly being run over by a blur of green and silver as bare feet hurry on the old boards.

"Oh, sorry, I- I didn't see you. Apologies. Is Yuuri, ah, still upstairs?" Victor asks, his eyes trained carefully on the stairs behind Phichit. 

"Yes? But he's just gone to sleep. Training in the morning and all." The Thai man says slowly, noticing the gleam in his blue eyes. "I'm sure he wouldn't mind a visit from Coach though." He says quietly, a smirk pulling at the corners of his lips. 

"Excellent. _Spasiba_ , Phichit. Thank you!" Victor replies with a heart-shaped smile as he passes him in the hall. 

'Hope Yuuri still wears pajamas to bed...' Phichit ponders, pushing it from his mind as he makes for the onsen. One last dip for the night.

***

The cicadas buzz like white noise as Yuuri drifts between sleep and wake, trying to push the thoughts of Victor and the wedding from his mind. He tosses back and forth across his single bed, too hot, then too cold, sweat sticking his hair to his forehead. He sighs and yanks the old t-shirt over his shoulders, feeling the cool evening air kiss his skin. Settling back into bed, he swears he sees a shadow pass in front of his door, two feet casting dark in the gap below his door before it comes. Another knock.

"Go. Away. Phichit. I don't want to talk about it." Yuuri says, throwing the cushion at the door.

"Um, Yuuri? I'm not Phichit..."

Yuuri squeaks and falls out of bed. Literally. Picking himself up off the floor, he stands there, gawping at his bedroom door and the silhouette that is definitely not Phichit's.

"V-V-Victor?!?!" he stammers as he edges to the door, scraping his unruly hair with his nails. "Is...is something the matter?"

"Not really." Victor's voice is muffled by the door, but Yuuri can swear he can hear that heart-shaped smile through the paper. "But can I come in? I'd rather not talk in the hall through a closed door." Yuuri quickly opens his door… and regrets not putting his shirt back on when he sees Victor's mouth drop open and a blush bloom on his cheeks, even in the dim light.

"Oh." 

"Oh god! I'm sorry!"

"Nononono it's fine, it's late and it is your room, after all-"

"I-I-I wasn't expecting company. Let me find a shirt-"

"Really it's fine! There's no need to on my account-"

_"Yuuri! Put a shirt on! And Victor! Either go in his room or go back to your own! But stop shouting! Some of us are trying to sleep!"_

Yuuri groans out loud at the shrill, sniggering shout of his sister from down the hall and pulls Victor into his room by his wrist before slamming the door shut, the paper vibrating. He is going to have to hell to pay at breakfast in the morning, but at least Mari won't be able to eavesdrop.

Victor takes a moment to look around Yuuri's bedroom, picking up the riceball-shaped cushion from where Yuuri had thrown it and hugging it a little. It’s still warm. Even in the pale moonlight that filters through the window, he spots the faded squares on the walls. Posters? Only recently taken down? He smiles to himself; he was right that first night! He had heard him rip posters down when he asked to first come in.

"Ummm, Victor?" Yuuri's tiny whisper almost goes unheard in the darkened room. "You...you said you wanted to talk?"

"Oh right! Yes, I did." Victor leans against the small desk, thinking it would look better than just sitting on his student's bed. "It's about your sister's wedding."

"Oh." Yuuri doesn't hide the disappointment in his voice. "That."

The tone of Yuuri's voice doesn't go unnoticed, something ugly rears its head in Victor's chest at the sound of his voice. He didn't need to see the way his shoulders probably had slumped, his eyes cast down at his feet. Like they had earlier. 

" _Da_. I... I asked earlier if you think Mari would mind if I brought a date." Victor asks, listening carefully as Yuuri's feet carry him to his bed and the old springs creak a bit as he sits.

'Thank you for reminding me, Victor. Thank you so much for helping me relive that moment.' Yuuri thinks sombrely as he hears the shifting of Victor's jinbei as he crosses and uncrosses his arms, backlit by the window. 

"Mhm." Yuuri replies simply, no more than a hum in attempt to mask any further disappointment. It was bad enough that he had said it once. But now he came to say it again? Was this some kind of mental trick for skating, to feel the rejection of someone he loved? To cram that into his Eros performance somehow?

Wait.

_Love?_

Does... he love Victor?

"I, I realize that I may have been a bit...cryptic. I'm sorry for that. I didn't mean to, what I meant to say, to ask-" Victor stammers, scrambling for words as his heart thuds in his chest. He had never had this happen over a simple question. He was Victor Nikiforov. He didn't get nervous asking someone out. 

Yuuri's heart stutters at the way his words come stilted. He dares to hope. A soft, fleeting thing with feathers flutters in his chest as Victor rakes his hand through his hair.

The Russian pushes a harsh exhale out through his nose. "What I meant to say is that I want to accompany you to Mari's wedding. I was trying to be coy and I realize that wasn't the brightest idea I've had. I'm sorry, Yuuri."

"V-Victor, can you say that in English?" 

"Huh?" Victor asks, his brow furrowing.

"That was Russian."

' _Der'mo!_ Ohgodohgodohgod!' Victor's mind races. How did he not even notice that he had just said that in Russian? Was he really that much of a hopeless mess that he couldn't even pay attention to what he was saying?

"Oh. Umm… w-well, I was just saying that… w-what I've been trying to say all day is that..."  
Yuuri watches as Victor fidgets with that sash again. He looks… flustered. That thought jars with everything he's ever known about the Living Legend. Why is Victor so tense about talking about his date? Is it someone he knows? Is it someone he doesn't like? Or… could it be something else? Something he's imagined but never dared to hope for…

"Victor?" The Russian instantly stops yammering and looks up at him. His eyes look so huge in the dim light. Yuuri licks his lips and takes a deep breath. Maybe Phichit was right after all; if he's going to reject him, it would be better to just get it over with than draw it out any longer.

Victor sighs and braces his hands on the desk behind him. He must be crazy, even considering Chris' advice. But he just can't take the second-guessing any longer.

"Will you be my date?"

Yuuri freezes. Victor gasps and his hand flies to his mouth. 

"D-did you just...?" Yuuri stammers.

Victor quickly nods. "Mhm. The same time as you."

Yuuri's face is bright red, he's sure of it. Victor's heart is going to jump out of his ribcage. 

"Y-you want to be my date?!" Yuuri trips over his tongue again. "But...I thought-"

"I was trying to get you to ask me out. Silly, I know!" Victor laughs breathlessly, suddenly feeling giddy. "But I thought you'd run a mile if I asked you, so I hoped you'd eventually ask me. But you never did."

"Only because I thought you'd laugh at me!" Yuuri screeches, chiding himself for yelling in the middle of the night. "I mean, you're Victor Nikiforov!"

The Russian tips his head to one side, his fringe falling over his eye. "So? Does that mean I don't like to be asked out? That I wouldn't have been flattered?" Yuuri flushes at the way Victor's hair catches in the moonlight, his musical laugh filling his bedroom as he casually throws the cushion in his direction. "And besides. You're Yuuri Katsuki. Don't you think I'd like you to ask me out?" Victor smiles, a genuine one. Not the one he uses for the press, for photos, for podiums. A real smile. The one Yuuri has seen in fleeting glances over dinner with his parents, the one he sees when Victor plays with Makkachin. The one he had seen when he landed his quadruple salchow. 

"Then why didn't you just say that?!" Yuuri laughs, tossing the cushion back at his coach.

"I told you, I thought you'd run. And I would rather be alone than be rejected by you, Yuuuuuuuuuuri." Victor replies, moving to stand from his spot at his desk. 

Yuuri smiles softly then, mumbling under his breath, _‘Stupid Victor’_ , in Japanese. The soft squish of the rice ball cushion presses against his still-bare chest and he feels the warmth of Victor in front of him, his brain toying with the idea that the cushion might, in fact, be in the way. 

"Yuuri?" The Russian murmurs gently in the dark. Yuuri feels fingertips touch the bottom of his chin, pulling his gaze up from the slither of pale skin visible under the jinbei and up to his face. There’s a slight tremor in those fingertips, and Yuuri’s sure he feels a spark dance along his skin.

"Hmm?" He returns, his heart in his throat. Sure, Victor was affectionate, he touches him all the time. But this... This feels different.

"You didn't answer my question..." His breath is warm and smells like peppermint.

"Y-you didn't answer mine..." Yuuri replies without thinking.

Victor smiles again, a small, soft glowing thing that makes his eyes sparkle and scrunch up at the corners. "Maybe you should ask me properly..." he whispers, leaning a little bit closer. Yuuri is acutely aware of the fact that he's half-naked. And that Victor has not stopped looking at his mouth for over a minute.

He shifts his weight, his bedsprings squeaking a little and the sound makes Victor giggle quietly. Nevertheless, Yuuri faces the gorgeous silver-haired man and looks up into his big sparkling eyes.

"V-Victor..." he takes a soothing breath. Now or never. "...w-will you please come with me to Mari's wedding? As...as my date?"

A dazzling heart-shaped smile bursts onto Victor's face and he leaps forward, hugging Yuuri tightly. The smaller man grunts in surprise as he topples backwards onto his bed, Victor suddenly on top of him. He can feel his body heat through the flimsy silk of his robe. It feels nice. And terrifying.

"That sounded almost like a proposal, Yuuuuriiii." Victor teases, leaning up on his hands to grin down at his date. His _date!_ He can hardly believe it!

Yuuri lets out a barking laugh, all the tension from the past few hours tumbling out of him. "Let's have our first date before you push me down the aisle, okay?"

"Deal!" Victor exclaims, his smile lighting up in the darkness and something stirs in Yuuri's chest at the sight of it.

"Victor... you're... you're on top of me." Yuuri stammers, blushing at the thought of it.

"Yuuuuuuuuuri." Victor groans in his throat, the low roll of his 'uu' nearly too much for Yuuri to remain focused on anything else. Like his bare chest. Or Victor's legs bracketing his hips. "Are you saying you want me to move?"

Yuuri swallows thickly, those cerulean eyes glinting in the dark. 

"M-maybe... isn't this something that happens after a first date?" he scrambles for an excuse. 

"I suppose." Victor laughs and pushes away, and it feels like a loss. The air was too cold around him without Victor so near him. "We do have training in the morning. I wouldn't be a very good coach if I kept you awake all hours of the night..." 

Yuuri yelped at the insinuation there. And maybe got a bit excited at the thought.

Yuuri would forever say that he didn't know what possessed him. Maybe it's the adrenaline. Maybe it's the fact that he actually bit the bullet and asked Victor out. Maybe it's the fact that he's going to spend the rest of the night kicking himself if he doesn't do it.

Whatever the reason, he sets the cushion to the side, reaches up, grabs Victor's face with both hands and pulls him down to kiss him. He scrunches his eyes tight shut as he brings the Russian down to his level and nearly misses his mark, his lips just about latching onto Victor's (as well as his cheek). 

_"MMMMMMMPHH?!?!"_ Victor flounders for a moment, eyes impossibly wide and his hands smacking the mattress on either side of Yuuri's head as the world spins. Then he sinks against Yuuri's chest and it's every bit as amazing as he's ever imagined.

Yuuri feels Victor sigh above him, his lips parting just a little to return the kiss and his heart stops. He's kissing Victor Nikiforov. In his bedroom! On his bed! If it wasn't for the fact that he can definitely feel Victor's slender fingers slide down to his waist, he'd be sure that he was in fact sixteen years old again, experiencing his first wet dream.

But this is so much better than a dream. Because the real Victor is warm and soft like velvet and the hushed whispers of his name in that rich accent...gods above, Yuuri almost loses his grip on reality from that alone!

Victor sighs and lets his hand slowly roam over Yuuri's chest and stomach, never going beyond the waistband of his shorts. Yuuri's still a little doughy around his middle, that one area he's struggled with ever since he started coaching him. And Victor loves it! He loves how soft it feels under his fingers, that he can massage the skin in his hands and feel Yuuri shiver underneath him. That he can finally show Yuuri how much he's admired his body all this time; it's not _perfect_ , but it's _Yuuri_ , which makes it even better.

"Yuuri..." he whispers against the Japanese man's lips, hating that he has to pull away from them for even a second.

"Yes, Victor?" Yuuri opens his eyes and has to stop himself from gasping. At this angle, he can see every jewelled facet of Victor's eyes, edged with long silver lashes. He can see his lips look pink and swollen. He did that. He did that to Victor! He can't help but feel a little smug about that.

"I...that is, we-we probably should stop." Victor feels a mental image of himself smacking his forehead for saying that, but he quickly sits up, readjusting his jinbei to hide his very obvious arousal. "I mean...the walls here are pretty thin..."

Yuuri blushes and sits up, crossing his legs and hiding his erection. He knows well enough how thin the paper walls are, having lived most of his life putting up with the sound of his dad's snoring from down the hall. The idea that someone might hear him and Victor...he hides his face in his hands and groans.

Then a thought pops into his head and he looks up sharply at Victor.

"Wait. Is that the only reason why you're stopping? Because...someone might hear us?"

Victor smiles coyly, rubbing a hand down the back of his neck. "Well, yeah. Why else would I stop?"

Yuuri pulls his lip into his mouth, trying to hold back the noise that might have come out without his control.

"I- I thought that you... I'm- I'm me. And you're you." Yuuri stammers, still entranced by the sight of Victor's kiss-swollen lips, the expanse of his chest exposed by his loosely-tied robes.

"Yes, you're you. And if it wasn't clear enough, I'm attracted to you, Yuuri. I waited for weeks for you to ask. And when you kissed me... I- you took my breath away. But... I'm a selfish man, Yuuri. I don't think I can stomach the thought of anyone else hearing... Things. _You_." Victor replies, still short of breath at the way Yuuri's eyes seemed to shine in the dark, the darkening red flush of his cheeks trailing down his throat and dusting his chest. His bare chest. Victor felt his mouth going dry at the memory of the heat of his skin under his fingertips.

"So if... if people wouldn't hear...?" Yuuri ventures, his cheeks burning even brighter, surely about to combust. 

"If people wouldn't hear..." Victor says softly, "I don't think I'd be able to stay away." The Russian's voice is thick with his accent, smooth as honey in Yuuri's ears and it sends a chill down his spine. He doesn't want it to end. He doesn't want Victor to walk back out his door. He wanted more. 

More of those lips against his, the dance of his fingertips over his skin again. More of those soft sighs of his name and gentle rushes of breath against his cheek. 

"And... What if we stay quiet?" Yuuri whispers, almost without sound, just the movement of his lips. 

Victor bites back a groan. "If we could stay quiet... _Yuuri_..."

Yuuri lunges forward just as Victor moans his name, swallowing it down like air as he captures those soft, pink lips again, drinking the hushed moans that spill into his mouth as he kisses Victor again. This time it feels different; it's explorative, dangerous. He wants to know what makes Victor make those sweet noises when he swipes his tongue over the roof of his mouth. But he can't let anyone else hear them. He's on thin ice...and he's never been more excited in his life!

Victor grips Yuuri's bare shoulders, steadying himself against the onslaught of Yuuri's lips, teeth and tongue, stunned by just how good it feels. How natural it feels to graze his teeth over Yuuri's lower lip and taste the sigh that falls from his lips. How his entire body sets alight when Yuuri sucks on his tongue and he has to fight the urge to moan lewdly. He knows he has to stay quiet, but...gods, he's so happy he wants to scream already!

Trembling fingers slip under his jinbei, pushing the silk off his shoulders and exposing his upper body to the late night air. He smiles, moving to brush soft kisses along Yuuri's jawline up to his ear. He can't help but grin when Yuuri hisses as he nips at the lobe.

_"Victor!"_

_"Shhsshhhhh,"_ Victor whispers in the shell of his ear, flicking his tongue over the hot skin (he must be blushing all over, Victor realises with another grin), "quiet, remember?"

Yuuri hums, nodding and closing his eyes, willing himself to calm down. Focusing on Victor's chest, he trails his fingers down, gently rubbing the darkened, pebbled nubs between his finger and thumb. He feels Victor's chest heave under his hands and smiles. Victor likes that. He'll have to remember that.

He begins to mirror the older man's movements, kissing along that swanlike neck. He dares to suck the alabaster skin into his mouth and Victor lets out a shuddering moan.

"Ah ah ah," he chides in a low, teasing tone so unlike his own voice, "quiet, remember?"

"God, Yuuri..." Victor whispers into Yuuri's hair, hands scrambling for purchase of his upper back and shoulders, begging him for more without words, swallowing the shaky moans Yuuri was pulling from him with his fingers. 

He lets his hands begin to wander as Yuuri's exploration of his chest grows quicker, faster. Yuuri's swirling fingertips are met with gentle scraping of Victor's fingernails down the length of his spine, a hitched breath huffing against his throat, where Yuuri had surely left a few purple marks already. Victor catches a cry in his throat when Yuuri pinches, the intoxicating combination of pleasure and pain nearly too much for such a hushed rendezvous. But that makes it all the more exciting.

Yuuri's skin is set on fire with Victor's wandering hands, his heart hammering in his throat as he tries to stay quiet, the thought of someone hearing this... it's both too embarrassing to consider and so undeniably dangerous. And he likes it. A lot. 

Victor's fingernails rake over the still-soft swell of his hips, where a bit of chub reluctantly clings to him and he squeezes, both men imagining his hands wrapped around Yuuri's hips in a different position, a different orientation. Another shuddering breath falls across Victor's throat as he dips his fingers below the waist of Yuuri's shorts, inching closer, closer, closer to the globes of his ass. Yuuri nearly keens when those long fingers knead into that plush flesh.

"V-Victor-" Yuuri whispers, "Lay down? I- I want you to t-t-touch me. Please?" It barely rustles the soft hair at the base of Victor's neck, the short, fair silver hair that Yuuri had always wanted to touch. 

They move slowly, not wanting the creaky springs to groan too obviously; Victor lays on his back, his jinbei pooling around him in a puddle of green silk. Yuuri nearly gasps at the sight of it, of the silver hair he'd always dreamt of, splayed over his duvet, in his bed.

Victor reaches up, cupping Yuuri's cheek in one hand, smiling as he leans into the touch with a soft sigh. His other hand slides over Yuuri's chest, fingertips rolling over a pert nipple and drawing a hissing gasp from the younger man. He moves lower, closer to the waistband of his shorts and stops, looking up at the flushed expression on Yuuri's face, the pleading look in his amber eyes.

"Please..." 

That's all he needs to hear and he carefully pulls the shorts down to Yuuri's knees. His mouth goes dry as Yuuri's cock springs up, already fully erect and twitching for him.

"Gods, you're beautiful!" Victor whispers, placing his hands on Yuuri's hips and gazing up at him, admiring every contour, every mark, everything with a soft smile before reaching for Yuuri's hands. He guides them to the sash around his waist and waits patiently.

It takes Yuuri a heartbeat to realise what Victor wants him to do and fumbles with the knot in the silk. He tries to keep his movements slow, like Victor did, but his fingers feel numb and he's sure he looks like an idiot. But when it finally comes undone and he pushes the jinbei away...his breath catches in his throat and his heart stops. 

Victor is every inch as beautiful as he's ever imagined and...well, every inch is accounted for, he thinks with an audible gulp. It's like he's been sculpted from living marble, pale, smooth and glowing in the dim light.

"Lie down." Victor instructs gently, shifting onto his side and coaxing Yuuri to lie next to him. Shuffling quietly, Yuuri lies with his back to the wall, looking at Victor across his pillow. His brain struggles with the fact that he's sharing a pillow with that face.

Victor brushes his lips against Yuuri's at the same time as he slides his fingers around Yuuri's cock, a tentative stroke to match the shuddering moan. 

_"Oh god!"_

"Is this okay?" Victor asks, keeping his strokes slow and featherlight. 

Yuuri nods, gasping. "Y-yes...yes, f-feels good, so good. C-can I...?" 

Victor's eyes roll back at the soft request, his hair rustling gently over the pillow as he nods. A shaky breath falls from his lips as Yuuri's fingers tentatively wrap around his length, his thumb and forefinger nearly kissing around him.

"Is this g-good?" Yuuri asks through his arousal, nearly choking on his own words at the sensation of Victor's hand around him. 

"So good, Yuuri. S-so damn good..." Victor groans as he catches Yuuri's lips with his again, swallowing his tiny hitched breaths as they move in a slow, easy pace together. "I've done this alone for too long." Victor murmurs without thinking, losing himself in the feeling of his hand, of the smell of his hair, the quiet sounds of flesh on flesh as he desperately holds in his moans. Yuuri is so much more perfect than the Yuuri in his dreams, than the Yuuri he had imagined night after night in the privacy of his bedroom at night. Even more perfect than the slurring, tipsy Yuuri who had danced with him in Sochi.

Yuuri's ears are burning, his hips moving on their own as Victor strokes him, as he strokes Victor. He tries to match his movements, flicking his wrist just right, swiping his thumb over the head and moaning at the slick bead of precome that had gathered there. Victor groans deep in his chest as Yuuri's hips buck into his fist, and that's a sound that Yuuri knows he'll never be able to forget. He was the one doing this to Victor. He was the one stroking his cock. He was the one kissing him, in his bed, he was the reason for the hardness in his fist, and the blush that had now reached Victor's chest. 

"K-keep your eyes on me, Victor." Yuuri gasps as he feels his edge approaching, the slow, steady strokes pumping him ever closer. "Don't look away."

Those brilliant crystalline eyes flutter open, meeting Yuuri's gaze with heated focus.

"I can't. I can't look away, Yuuri. I never will." Victor pants as his cock twitches in Yuuri's hand. 

Heat and an intense pressure build under Yuuri's skin, spreading from his navel through his veins as he picks up his pace, loving the long, breathy groan it pulls from Victor. He wants more. More of those sweet noises that only he can wring out of Victor. More of the feeling of his hand wrapped around his cock, more of feeling Victor throb and twitch between his fingers. More of his kisses, more of his hands, his lips, his teeth-

"Vicctoo _oOOOOOR!_ " his orgasm hits him like a bolt of lightning, jarring every nerve ending in his body until it feels like he's no longer in his room. It's like he's engulfed in static, nothing exists but the sensation of Victor's hand wrapped around his cock, coaxing more thick fluid from him as he bucks his hips, his mouth hanging open in a silent, shameless scream.

"Yuuri, _oh my god_ , yes. Yes, hah, _haaaa_ -" Victor slams his mouth over Yuuri's as he comes, mewling against the younger man's tongue as he pumps him through his high, his brain blissed out with the thought that it was Yuuri pulling him apart and making him whole again.

After a few moments of shared moans and rasping, heaving breaths, Yuuri is aware enough to open his eyes. And the sight makes his heart soar. Victor Nikiforov, flushed and sated against his pillow, panting for breath and grinning like the cat who got the cream, his silver hair mussed up and his lips kiss-bruised. Gazing downwards, he sees several purple marks along Victor's neck and chest and smiles to himself. 

'I did that.' a possessive voice rings in his mind. 'These are my marks. I did this to Victor.'

Victor feels something stir in his chest at the way Yuuri looks at him like he's just won a gold medal. Like he is the gold medal.

'I wouldn't mind staying wrapped around Yuuri's neck.' he thinks with a soft laugh.

"Something funny?" Yuuri asks, suddenly anxious when he hears Victor laugh. Did he do something wrong? Was that not good for him? Was he faking it just to make Yuuri happy?

"Just laughing at myself... for waiting so long." Victor chuckles tiredly, swiping his fringe out of his eyes and off his forehead, now slick and shining with sweat. Victor seemed to see the frantic thoughts passing through Yuuri's mind. "That was incredible. Thank you. So much." he places a soft kiss at the tip of Yuuri's nose, gently releasing his grip of the softening flesh and Yuuri did the same. A soft sigh falls from Yuuri's lips as those simple words calm his anxious thoughts, soothing them almost instantly.

"I could say the same to you." Yuuri breathes, flushing at the now very uncomfortable sensation of slippery fluid running down his stomach. "Um, Victor? We should probably clean up..." he laughs lightly when Victor rolls onto his back with a groan.

"Do we have to get up? I think I need a few hours to recover..." Victor teases as he drapes a long arm over his eyes dramatically. 

"Do you want to be sticky in the morning?" Yuuri teases back, seizing the opportunity and gently dancing his fingertips over Victor's ribs, earning him a squealing, snorting laugh from the Living Legend, who felt so much more human in this light, sweating and panting, complaining about getting out of bed and laughing when tickled. Yuuri smiles at that, sitting upright and stretching his spine gently.

"Okay, okay, fine. I'll get up." Victor sighs as he swings his legs over the side of the bed. "Shower, then a dip in the onsen, Yuuuuuuuuri?" he coos as Yuuri sits beside him, leaning on his shoulder with a contented sigh.

"Sounds nice." Yuuri says simply, still in utter shock that Victor Nikiforov, _THAT_ Victor Nikiforov was his date for his sister's wedding. Not only that, but said Victor Nikiforov had just jerked him off. In his bed. "Wow." he hums, half to himself.

"Indeed, _zolotse_." Victor replies, kissing his temple sweetly.

"Zo-lot...se?" Yuuri repeats slowly, puzzled by the foreign word. Victor blushes and blinks owlishly at him in the dark.

"Oops. I did it again, didn't I?" Victor chuckles, flummoxed that he's slipped into Russian again. "Well...it means 'darling'."

Yuuri feels a fresh blush bloom on his cheeks as he stands up, a delicious warmth spreading through his body as he moves. Scraping his damp hair from his face, he smiles down at Victor, who seems frozen halfway between sitting and lying down.

"Pet names already, Victor?" he chuckles, feeling his very skin glow with pride and something else. Something he's never felt before.

Victor pouts with his lower lip hanging out. "If you're going to be mean about it, I'll take it back." A hand gently takes his and lifts his arm up. Victor's eyes follow the direction until he's looking up at Yuuri as he lifts his hand to his lips. Victor swallows a thick lump at the sweet gesture.

"Sorry… _koibito_." Yuuri murmurs against Victor's knuckles with a shy smile.

Victor collapses to the bed again, grabbing the pillow to mask his squeal. The sight makes Yuuri blink widely and feel anxious.

"Victor? What the hell?!"

The Russian peeks out from under the pillow, sapphire eyes sparkling as he grins a heart-shaped smile. "Finally...you've transformed from a piggy into a Prince!"

Yuuri blushes beetroot and throws a towel from his airing cupboard at Victor's beaming face, wrapping another quickly around his waist.

He's about to run to the shower - and away from the bubbling laugh that fills his bedroom - when he feels a pair of slender hands wrap around his midriff and tug him backwards, gently slamming him into the solid frame of Victor's chest.

"My Prince Yuuri..." he whispers in his ear, his breath tickling his neck. "Now I really can't wait to accompany you to the ball."

"You mean my sister's wedding!" Yuuri laughs, melting against that firm form.

Victor shrugs. "Ball, wedding, same difference. As long as I'm by your side."

Yuuri doesn't even check if anyone's in the hall when he steps out of his room, his fingers locked with Victor's as they walk to the bathroom.

"YUURI! VICTOR!" Phichit cries as he covers his eyes with flailing arms. "MY EYES!"

"Ohh my god, sorrysorrysorry!" Yuuri squeaks as he quickly crosses his arms over his bare chest, Victor laughing as he slides in behind Yuuri.

"I get that you live in an onsen, but _Christ_ , cover up when you're not in the water!" Phichit laughs brightly, his ears flushed at the peaks.

"I'm so sorry, we were just on our way to... the..." Yuuri claps a hand over his mouth to stop the words.

"To the shower! And then the onsen." Victor happily continues for him, Yuuri's face burning even hotter than it had at any point that day.

"You two are lucky it's empty... God! Shameless!" Phichit peeks between his fingers, laughing at the two of them scrambling to cover up. 

"Victor, go on ahead? I'll be just a second." Yuuri says when he meets his best friend's eye, Phichit silently questioning him with a twitch of his eyebrow.

" _Da, zolotse_." Victor whispers, and Yuuri doesn't fight the smile that curls his lips at the use of the endearment. Both the younger men watch as Victor bounces down the hall, humming softly as he ducks into the bathroom.

"So... did something _haaaaaappen_?" Phichit teases, poking him playfully in the bicep.

"Phichit!" Yuuri squeaked, flushing again at the memory. "Maybe." he admits, his best friend's eyes lighting up.

"You have SO much explaining to do, Katsuki. But I can't keep you from that man for too long... did you...?"

"Ask him? Yes. I did. He said yes." Yuuri replies with a wistful smile, imagining a shared slow dance under a swirling disco ball, rocking gently to something slow and easy. Victor in a suit. Victor holding him, Yuuri holding Victor, maybe even sneaking away...

"Oh. Well, that's good! Way to go, Yuuri! I'm happy for you. But I meant to ask if you got laid."

**Author's Note:**

> Phichit, a little shit right up to the very end. And we love him for it XD
> 
> Drop us a line, leave a kudos, bookmark and just say hi. We reply to all comments and love hearing from you all.
> 
> See ya soon!!
> 
> xxx
> 
> ( _Ia in the italics today! Bit of background - Laura and I were chatting about our favorite fic tropes and the 'oh shit, I need a date to this wedding, quick! Pretend to be my boyfriend!' trope came up. Then the sentence "I can imagine Phichit cooking up some kind of scheme like that for Yuuri..." was said. aaaaaaand now we're here. *jazz hands* Hope y'all enjoyed as much as we did writing this! Love you all! <3_)


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